


Am I Sleep-Deprived or is the Archive's Demon Kinda Cute??

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Poetry, Sleep Paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: Martin, Tim, and Sasha find out about a creature in the archives, and make friends with it?
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 44
Kudos: 259





	Am I Sleep-Deprived or is the Archive's Demon Kinda Cute??

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I am simple, and gay, a monster LOVER
> 
> Socials
> 
> Tumblr: tea-is-not-them  
> Tiktok: teaisnotthem  
> instagram: Tea_is_not_them

Sasha had been the first to encounter what they had all decided to call ‘The Archives Sleep Ghoul.’ She was always the one who accidentally falls asleep at work more often than anyone else, working in a manky old archive really got boring after a while, especially when your predecessor was a terrible archivist, leaving the place in such a wreck that you stayed way later than needed. Reading scary stories didn't do much to keep her awake either. 

She sighed leveling the bookshelf with a tired glare, then she blinked and saw something standing there that has not been there before. It was tall, with long flowing almost floating hair, and eyes. So many eyes. Toxic green stared into her soul, a few on its face, then going down its torso. Was that a mouth? Oh god it’s hands were so big, claws that extended much too long were getting closer.

The sound of footsteps was a lot, and Sasha found that she could not breath, nor move when looking at this thing. It’s head cocked, and it leaned down slightly. It blinked, and that causes the Archivist to try and scream, as all its eyes trained on her prone form. 

Finally she blinked again, Sasha shot up from where her head was laid on her arms staring at the bookshelf, eyes wide and manic in panic. 

She had been asleep, and this caused her to calm down slightly. Just sleep paralysis then, was the rationalization to that, just her mind making things up. She really needs to stop watching bad horror movies, or maybe just cease watching Martin play his horror games. How he stomachs those at night she does not understand, but it’s fun to watch him play, especially when Tim is there to dramatically scream in terror. 

Sasha looks around at the dark room and notices a book has fallen down, she gets up and bends down to pick it up, places it back on the shelf it belonged to. 

Maybe going to get a midnight snack would be a good idea, she was starting to see things in the shadows. 

\-------

Martin is the next to see it. He was staying in the archives because of the Prentiss situation at his flat, and he laid on the cot staring at the ceiling. The archives were creepy at night, no scratch that, downright unsettling and made him feel all kinds of watched and anxious, he knew from both Sasha’s stories of waking up frightened, and because he stayed there overnight. He pulled the blanket up tighter, still feeling cold as all can get out, since some monster -- cough cough Elias-- decided that having the heat on in the archives when someone was taking refuge was not important. 

He blinked, and saw something out of the corner of his eye. Martin stayed completely still, taking a deep breath, hoping that he hadn't actually seen something and was just paranoid from the old building vibes. 

No such luck though, because there was something standing by the cot now. Frozen in fear, he saw the Thing. A tall creature with tens of eyes, and a crownlike formation of horns on its head. 

It stared down at him, cocking its head, and reaching its hand down. He wanted to scream at the thing, as the claws got closer to his chest. Martin could not die in these old stacks, after surviving Prentiss!

The claws touched his chest, and he felt his heart seize violently. Oh god he was going to die here. 

Yet, it did not tear him apart, simply laid its hand on his chest the tips of the claws slightly pressing into clothes, it was weird and cold, and he couldn’t breath-!

Eyes opened, and Martin realized that it was a dream. He sat up rubbing warmth back into his hands, and taking in more air than he needed. 

Leaving document storage he tried to forget about the nightmare, sleep paralysis he thinks it’s called. Some tea sounded like a great idea.

\---------

Tim had seen the creature last, because he was staying the night in the archives with Martin, because he didn’t want him to feel alone. Martin talked about feeling watched all the time, and frankly they didn’t want to deal with that, and Tim didn't want to leave a bro hanging in the spooky stacks. 

He looked around from his little bed on the floor, made of a bunch of comforters he brought from home. It was dark in the archives, the cobwebs showing in the dim light of his phone screen. Martin was sound asleep on the cot, looking more peaceful than he did minutes ago when he was awake. 

Laying his phone down, alarm set for the next day, he curls onto his side and goes to sleep.

Except he’s awake, his eyebrows furrow but nothing much else happens. Something was looking at him, he felt that thought in his bones, seeping down like damp clothes into frigid skin. He waited for something, anything to get rid of the goosebumps that started.

Something was touching him, and there was hair in his face. Eyes were all he could see. 

Oh god those are eyes, he thought to himself, and he could feel the tips of very sharp nails on his shoulder. It was leaning over him unnaturally, neck craned, blinking over and over as if it were trying to catalogue his very soul, looking into his eyes and blinking slowly. 

That was a mouth. Its mouth opened, formed a word. He couldn’t hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears, the wound that was it's mouth closed again, and Tim shut his eyes hoping that is he was about to be eaten at least he would die quickly. 

It wasn’t worth putting up a false bravado, and then he shot up. Martin was shaking him.

“Tim. Tim! Wake up it was just a dream!” He was yelling, looking a bit worried. Tim looked at him, and took a shaky breath. That was not a good experience, hell that was spooky. 

“Yeah. A dream.”

Martin looked like he was going to ask something, before aborting and saying something else, “Want to go on a walk?”

Tim thought for a second and gave a charming smile, “A midnight stroll Martin, how romantic!”

Martin smacked him on the shoulder, “Shut up Tim, I won’t make you tea.”

“Gasp!”

\---------

Sasha was the one who brought it up, “Do you two ever get nightmares in the Archives?”

Martin stopped eating his instant ramen, placing his chopsticks down, “Yeah actually. Once a week at least since I’ve started having uh… The nightmares about this thing?”

“I had one when staying with Martin one night, sleep paralysis I think actually.” Tim said, waving his forkful of lettuce at them.

“Yeah same!” Sasha took a drink of her tea, “I saw this tall creature covered in eyes, and like floating hair?”

There was a few seconds of silence, “With claws?” Tim said slowly.

“Yeah.” The Archivist blinks a few times.

Martin stabs at the food in his bowl, “With horns?” He imitates the crownlike formation he had seen and Sasha nods again. 

“We have the same sleep paralysis demon!” Tim exclaims, trying not to show his distrust of that idea. Mass hysteria is a think but that requires previous knowledge.

“This is a terrible idea!” He whisper-yells at Sasha, Martin was sitting next to them in document storage with a look of both fear and annoyance. They had all been on edge since lunch the day before, and Sasha had come up with a plan.

She said “What if we all stayed in the archives, if we all see the sleep paralysis demon maybe its not just a freak coincidence.”

And Martin said, “Why would I want to know if it’s real, I have to sleep here.”

This prompted Tim to offer Martin his guest room if this all went sideways, and then Sasha asking why Tim had not offered it in the first place. Turns out Tim had forgotten about his guest room, which turned into a teasing fest from his coworkers, to which he pulled out his masters degree. It had been hilarious.

So here they were, a group of adults trying to see if their shared nightmares were an actual monster. Martin had made tea, and Sasha brought a deck of cards. It was like a real sleepover from sixth form. 

None of them stayed on the cot, deciding it would simply be better to not fight over who would get to sleep in it. Their little nest of comforters, thanks to Tim’s extensive blanket and pillow collection, was nice to curl up in and sleep. They were all emotionally stable enough to cuddle with their friends.

Martin blinked awake, to see the creature from before standing in the doorway. It looked almost… Anxious? It walked closer, its body moving strangely as it got closer, it’s head cocked to the side. The thing’s curiosity was trained on the three of them on the floor. Then Martin heard Sasha’s breath hitch, she saw it too!

Oh christ that meant this wasn’t just a shared dream. Martin could move his hands, so it wasn’t actually sleep paralysis like they had all thought, well hoped. 

The creature looked at him, and then a soft trill came from it. It was unsettling, but not terrifying? A sound that confused the three on the floor. It sounded not quite like a bird but still warbling and droning. 

Suddenly Sasha shot up, “What are you!”

The thing froze, letting out a shrill chirp, “No!” Before seemingly melting into the darkness on the wall. 

Tim sat up, staring at the camera in Sasha’s hand, a polaroid. 

They had a picture of the thing.

The three of them sat at a café, still bleary and holding onto a dark picture. They could see the wait staff staring at their disheveled and tired appearances, their judgement wasn't the worst thing they experienced that night. They had rushed to get out of the archive after seeing the thing, still hearing the echo of its high pitched ‘no!’ 

Sasha looked into her black coffee like it would hold the answers to all their questions for the thing in their workplace. 

“What the fuck was that?” Tim broke the silence, hand tight over the ceramic mug. He got a glare from one of the women in the café with her teenager. It was late though, so that kid should be asleep, Martin thought bitterly in Tim's defense.

“Yeah… What in the world?” Martin said, glaring down at his muffin, “First Prentiss and now this!”

Sasha downed the rest of her coffee, the look of mania in her eyes was not imagined, “We have to find out.”

“You mean going back into that place at night? Sasha what if it wants to kill us!” Tim asked.

Martin partially agreed, before thinking something, “If it wanted us dead, wouldn’t it have done it by now?”

Sasha pointed at him like he had just given the world’s most important speech, “Yeah! If the thing wanted us dead, it would have gotten Martin while he stayed in the archives.”

“Gee thanks.” Martin muttered, but he was glad to know someone agreed with him. 

Tim looked at them both with something like frustration, “Maybe that’s what it wants us to think?” His words didn’t sound very solid to him either.

“We’re going to find this thing out.” Sasha said, a steel in her voice, “We have to.”

“You have to! Sasha this is dangerous!” Tim yelled, a mix of worry and anger.

Martin stared at them, a building headache fueled by annoyance rising, “Let's calm down and eat something ok? We can talk more after all of this. So help me Sasha James if you say another word I’m pouring hot tea in your lap.”

“”Yes Martin.”” They muttered and ate their food quietly. Martin felt a bit bad getting stern, but he can’t think while they're having another argument. 

\-------

“Fine we can try and catch this demon. If we get killed I’m haunting you both.” Tim grumbled, looking like he’d protect them with his life. 

“Sir yes sir!” Sasha teased, smiling at them both and then holding out the polaroid. 

It was dark when she took the picture, a figure illuminated by its own glowing eyes and almost beautiful horns. The line of its mouth barely visible, and clawed hands held up to its chest. It looked equal parts angry and scared at the picture being taken. 

Martin looked at it, and then remembered something, “It touched me once, my chest I think?”

“Weird! It touched my shoulder, leaning over me.”

“Spooky… It reached out to me but then I blinked and it was gone.” Sasha said, before unwrapping a caramel candy and popping it into her mouth. 

They were in the breakroom, and went quiet. They heard a quiet trill, their heads snapped to the direction the noise came from. 

“Oh fuck we take one picture and now its gonna follow us. This is the worst creepypasta.” Tim says under his breath, looking around to see if it was in the room with them.

“So we’re gonna have some more archive sleepovers?” Martin says nervously, hands wringing each other out.

Sasha looks from the door, to them, and to the door again, “I guess we are.”

\---------

It takes a few weeks before the thing comes back while they're all asleep in document storage. Tim is the one who wakes up to see it first, its eyes staring down at them. It leans down in a way that Tim almost labels as threatening, until it trills softly. It notices his eyes are open, and it looks a bit shocked.

Tim stares for a second before pulling his false confidence to the top, “Hi there.”

The creature blinks a few times confused, before trilling again.

“Can you talk?” Tim asks quietly, and the thing bares its teeth, he flinches and it backs away a little.

Finally there's a ripping noise, “Can you talk?” It mimics back at him, in an almost mockery of his voice.

It has a deep and scratchy voice, when it speaks for itself, different from it’s shrill noises, “Yes.” It says now.

Tim takes a deep breath, and nods, “Ok. Good to know.”

Again it looks confused, getting closer again. Tim fights down the urge to lash out, not wanting to scare it enough that it kills him. It gets a few inches from his face, practically stealing his air eyes blinking slowly. A laugh breaks out of Tim’s lips, the creature reminds him of a cat!

The thing cocked its head, “What-? What was that?”

“A laugh?” Tim asks, still trying not to wake up the others, “Are you asking what a laugh is?”

It nods, and he hums, “Well is a bodily reaction to something someone finds funny, or some people laugh when they're nervous.”

Again the creature nods, as if taking in the information, “Ok.” The eyes blink and there's a click, it's neck makes un unsettling snapping noise as it turns to see what the sudden noise was.

Sasha is up now, staring at the creature, not making any ill begotten moves, “Oh.”

The creature chirps at her, cautious. The room is quiet as it moves closer to her, getting into her personal space, she looks frantically at Tim, and he gives a thumbs up to the woman. The look on her face is almost funny, because the bafflement is less scared and more pure confusion.

“Hello.” It says, and looks proud of itself for giving a human introduction, eyes shining with pride. 

Sasha stalls a second, “Hello.”

Its quiet and the creature almost moves back, seemingly not enjoying the silence, before Martin’s voice startles them all, making the archive's creature jump.

“Hi.” He’s looking at the creature confused, and the creature looks at him and gives something that looks almost like a smile and trills.

“Hello.” It says, before it's tall and lean form is leaning closer to Martin now, “Freckles.”

“Wait what?” Martin asks, almost laughing at the absurdity.

The creature cocks its head, “You three call me the Archive's Creature, is it not right to call you your main feature?”

Oh it can speak full sentences, Sasha catalogued that for later, “No we have names.” 

The creature blinks all its eyes, face scrunched up in confuzzlement, “Names.... What are your names then? Other than Freckles, Archivist, and Strong?”

Tim laughs, flexing his arms , “I actually love the name it gave me.”

“Him.” The creature corrects quickly, “Not an it, a him.”

“My bad.” Tim says, before continuing his sentence, “I like the name he gave me.”

Martin hums, “Uh, I’m Martin, Strong is Tim, and Archivist is Sasha.”

The creature nods looking at all three of them, “Sasha, Tim, and Martin.” He has a surprisingly posh accent for a sleep paralysis demon, sounding a bit like he was over exaggerating it. He trilled again, before looking at the wall as if in thought, the only sound soft noises of people shifting and trills of thought.

“Can I have a name?” He asks them, looking excited.

Sasha looks at him and then gets an idea, “How about in exchange for naming you, you tell us why you’re here?”

The creature thinks this over, it’s many eyes blinking, before nodding in agreement, “Ok, that sounds fair.”

“Martin pull up a baby name website!” Sasha said, and Tim laughed, elbowing the other man playfully. 

“Yes ma'am!” He said, pulling up the name list.

They spent three hours looking for names with the archives creature cross legged sitting across from them. They started with the outright strange baby names, going from unisex to traditionally masculine names, before switching to a different site. He vetoed many of the names, citing distaste for the names Axel and Travis and Barry and James. Then they finally got to one that he stopped to think over.

“Jonathan.” Martin said, and before he could call out another name, the archive creature nodded vigorously, leaning in to look at his phone. Martin showed him the screen after getting used to the monster’s lack of personal space bubbles in the three hours of interaction.

“That one.” He said, “Jonathan sounds nice.”

“Ooh I can call you Jonny.” Tim says, after spending hours with a creature either pouting at names or getting up in their personal space like a house-pet, it was hard to get angry, or scared at him.

The newly dubbed Jonathan gave a glare, “Why Jonny? That's silly.”

“Would you prefer Jon?” Sasha asked, and Jonathan thought this over, moving out of Martin’s personal space to think.

After a minute he nodded solemnly, “Jon is fine.”

Tim groaned, “Favoritism.”

Sasha stuck her tongue out at him, and Jon cocked his head, turning to Martin, “Why do they stick their tongues out at each other?”

“Friend’s do that sometimes, when they’re play fighting.” Martin tells him, and Jon nods sagely. He almost laughs at the serious look on Jon’s face, before looking at his phone and swiping the baby names list off of his search history so that they wont show up again. 

Finally Sasha and Tim’s bickering died down, and Sasha got back on track, “So Jon, why are you here?”

Jon looks around, at the shelves and such, “I think I was created here, years ago. I was made to scare anyone who stayed too long, security I believe I was told. Fear is what made me. People don’t take kindly to being watched while they’re asleep, so they leave after once or twice of me showing up.” He pauses, “Except for you three.”

Martin felt a pang of sympathy, imagine being made for such a lonely purpose. 

“I like that there are people who are not afraid of me.” Jon continues, “People are interesting.”

Sasha nods, “Do you know what you are?”

Jon blinks, twisting some hair around a clawed finger, “I’m… huh. I don't know.”

The room is quiet again, and Jon is fidgeting with his hair, finally Martin speaks up, “Well, anyone want tea?”

Sasha and Tim perk up, “Please.” “Marto I could kiss you.”

He turns to Jon, who was quiet, “Would you like any?” It was a long shot, assuming that Jon could even drink human things.

Jon looks at him and gives a trill, “Yes, I’d like to try some.”

In the breakroom they all sit down, Jon only takes a seat when Sasha invites him to, as if not to intrude. But when he did he got in their personal space, looking at things curiously, watching. It wasn’t as unsettling as they thought it might be, had they not sat in the room arguing about baby names with him. Sasha took the cup Martin handed her thankfully, the warmth seeping into her cold hands. Tim took his and blew Martin a kiss, to which he had to tell Jon that he did that to his friends, even though it was usually a flirtatious gesture. 

Jon took his cup carefully, claws tapping the ceramic. He hummed, before taking a sip. They were almost worried he burnt himself, before he looked up at Martin and asked, “why is it so good?”

Martin explained tea, and was then pushed into a rant about tannins in some teas, and Jon listened intently. The subject slowly became Martin explaining tea blends and their uses, and it had been the most he talked without being drunk. Sasha and Tim egged him and Jon listened, taking sips of tea. 

\------------

From that night, Martin felt a bit safer staying in the archives, until Elias had banned them from staying there overnight. They left a note one night, telling Jon about what happened, and that night Sasha was visited by a multi eyed creature during the night. He nudged her awake and she almost screamed, before realizing what happened.

“You can leave the archives?”

Jon shrugged, “I did not know that I could. I never tried.”

Sasha nods understandingly, “Well we know that you can now. Don’t do this all the time, because some of us need to sleep.”

He nodded blinking a few times before patting Sasha’s head with his hand, “Ok. Sleep well Sasha.”

“Thank you Jon.” And then he left, and Sasha curled up to sleep. 

\------

“Jon what do you even eat?” Tim asks one night, they've all agreed that on Saturdays they will stay up all night and hang out with their nocturnal fear friend. Monday nights are when Jon goes and visits Sasha, Wednesdays are for Tim, and Fridays are for Martin. 

Jon shrugs, “Cursed things. I eat those evil books from artifact storage.”

Tim chokes on his drink, and Martin doubles over laughing. Sasha looks intrigued, but fails in trying to hide her chuckles. 

“Leitners? You eat those?” Sasha asks, and Jon nods sagely. 

“No one misses them, and I hate them.” He tells them, “Imagine going to read a book and then you’re getting eaten by a large spider! That just makes you scared to read, and reading is very important. It gets boring when you can’t read things.”

Martin laughs, before looking at Jon again, “Didn’t you say the same about Poetry?”

“Poetry doesn’t have any reason! There is not plot Martin, why do you read something without prose!” Jon rants, and Martin laughs.

“And yet you like theatre. Unbelievable.”

“Martin I have yet to find a poetry book that lives up to a good play.” Jon crosses his arms, and Tim snorts.

He takes this as his que to butt into their conversation, “Wow Jon, Martin writes poetry you know, and you’re bad mouthing it.” Sasha elbows him, and Jon looks perplexed.

“But he’s so smart, why poetry?” Jon looks genuinely befuddled, and Sasha laughs.

Martin glares at Tim, “Leave my poetry out of this, it’s not even that good.”

Jon frowns at that, muttering something.

“What was that?” Sasha asks, not having heard him. No one could understand him when he muttered, especially when anytime he spoke there was an undertone of chirping and trilling and soft musical noises. 

“I said, Martin’s poetry is probably better than the drivel that most poets write.” He started this very matter of factly, and Martin looks flustered.

“You’ll have to read some soon Jon!” Tim crows, looking at Martin with a mischievous smile. 

Martin smacks Tim on the shoulder, and Sasha is cracking up still. 

\-------

They are sitting in Martin’s living room, all four of them, watching Martin playthrough spooky games. Martin is laughing at how Tim and Sasha literally jumped and hid under a blanket at a jumpscare, and then let out a curse at losing his no dying streak. Jon watched besides him transfixed on the game, before a little girl with a lighter came running at the screen. 

Jon let out a screech and hid himself behind Martin, who was furiously tapping buttons to run away from the little arsonist. Tim and Sasha were laughing at his fear and he stuck his tongue out at them. 

\------

Martin looked up to see Jon leaning over him, he had come to a point where seeing the toxic green eyes looking at him was more of a comfort than a jolt of terror down his spine. Jon blinked as he finally woke up.

“Hello.”

“Hi Jon.” He says and sits up against the wall, he didn’t have a headboard.

Jon sat criss cross applesauce and gave a low hum, “How has your week been?”

Martin smiled, offering Jon a place under the blanket, which he took, “It’s been good actually, Elias hasn’t talked to us at all.”

“Good, he’s a capitalist.” Jon said this seriously and Martin cracked a smile.

His bedroom is sparsely decorated, just a bunch of blankets and a few pinned up pictures and notes from his friends. Jon was surprisingly warm for a fear creature, not yet cuddling Martin but close. He seemed to like stealing blankets as much as he could, as they had all found something of theirs hidden in an archives bookshelf. 

“Will you read me some of your poetry?” He asked suddenly. Martin thinks for a moment, drifting to their conversation about poetry a few weeks ago, and he smiles.

“Yeah sure.” He gets up and grabs a notebook, and starts reading from the beginning. Everyone once in a while he can see Jon cringe, and then give feedback on a line, but he was surprisingly sweet about it, even though he was usually vehement in his taste in literature.

Martin yawned, as he got through a few. Before realizing he was reading one he wrote about Jon himself. He was tired enough to just narrate and not think.

Jon listens and nods, giving a soft trill as Martin was almost asleep, “I love you too Martin.”


End file.
